Life to the Dead
by AmyWritesThings
Summary: There's something new about the Underworld - something changing. For the first time in eons, the ever sturdy realm of the dead is facing a shift that may be its downfall, and only one, unexpected, goddess may be able to alter the fate of destruction it faces. Hades/Persephone.
1. Prologue

Prologue

The dark eyes of Lord Hades snapped open, long before the disturbing sound reached his ears. Long ago, he had become connected to the Underworld – the realm had intertwined itself with his very soul eons ago, had become as much a part of him as the heart which beat beneath his chest. He was in tune with it, sensing each occurrence which roused itself in its dark, shaded depths. He had learnt the natural rhythms of this feared place; the creaks and groans which meant normality, a relative peace in the home of the dead. The sound which woke his rare slumber was not such a noise. It was a cry of something new, of a flare of danger within the seemingly endless halls of his domain. His home was in distress – and, within moments, the god was upon his feet, racing with an instinctive sense of purpose towards the source of such trouble.

 _The Elysian Fields._

It was not often he ventured there. Perhaps it was the souls that occupied it, the long dead heroes which lived their lifeless days in paradise. Hades held the firm belief that many of them did not deserve it; he was a man that spent most of his days listening to the cries and torments of the recently departed. He heard the struggles of mothers, who had passed without ensuring the safety of their children; common men who had perished at the hands of disease and famine. The King of the Underworld had since developed the firm belief that bravery was found in the struggles of the everyday, of the hopeless courage found in the poor and needy – not, in fact, within the souls of mindless 'heroes', who usually dragged just as much pain and suffering in their arrogant wake as they did success. Perhaps such ignorance too often reminded him of his brothers.

Nevertheless, it was not the dead which was causing him trouble on this night. Instead, there was something deeper – something wrong which took root within the very core of the ground beneath them, a shifting in the surface which had always stood so firm beneath him. He may not have always revelled in the realm he had been dealt with so long ago, but he always appreciated how little it changed. The walls of his castle were the same as the day they had first been erected, the flow of souls just as it had always been. Now, though, there was something new arising: where the glowing Elysian Fields had once stood proud and perfect, there was something different within its midst. A crack, harsh and merciless, had begun to show itself between the blades of grass. Plus, there was that smell: something putrid, consuming. It was a scent he no longer noticed in this world, though in this moment it was more distinct than he had ever recalled it… _decay_.

"Hecate! Thanatos!" The King called, and the voice of a ruler echoed throughout the depths of his realm. Within moments, he could sense the nearing of his fellow immortals – and then, the beating of a pair of wings. Thanatos arrived first, landing from his flight just beside his commander, face twisting at the stench which greeted his arrival. Seconds later, a more leisurely Hecate arrived, her pale skin glistening beneath the unusually bright light of the hero's paradise. She, too, was quick to inspect the hideous crack which had made its formation beneath their feet, pressing a cold palm to the rotting remains of the flowing fields. No one spoke, for a while, all three of them taking in the sight before them. They may be his subjects, his to command, but a mutual respect had long ago grown between the three deities. They were all of distinct power, and of distinct wisdom – but neither one of them knew, exactly, how to begin with such a problem.

"My Lord," Hecate was the first to speak, her voice deep with thought, as always. She knelt down closer to the foliage at their feet, running a fingertip over an asphodel bloom, which wilted away at her touch. "This… This cannot be. This land, this precious place, it has always been protected. The dead may roam here, but the grip of death was never supposed to touch the ground upon which they stood. Even the Underworld has never been truly lifeless." She rose, with the clanging of the jewellery at her wrists, the shifting of the dark fabrics which covered her form. "This is a problem, My King. No realm can survive without even a slither of life – not even one designed for the breathless. This crack… this is just the beginning. You must feel it, too, a decay which threads much further than a few fields of grass."

"I feel it." This time, it was Thanatos who spoke. The winged god was rarely seen so serious, but a threat to his home was not something he took lightly. He took a step backwards, allowing him to widen his vision of the great source of their problem. "The Elysian Fields have been here, for as long as my existence has allowed me to remember. Do you think, perhaps, even paradise can grow tired of housing the dead?" The tall figure shook his head, removing the expression of disdain with little effort. As quickly as his sadness had appeared, did his hopefulness return – for a god who spent so much time amongst the darkness of the dead, he had always managed to keep a hold of something so pure, in a way most other residents of the Underworld had not. Hades had always admired him for it. "Nonsense. I am certain this problem is merely temporary. We can fix it, can we not? Stop this decay from spreading. You must know a way, Hade- My Lord." He corrected himself, quickly, with a sheepish grin. Formalities were never his strong suit.

Hades had remained silent for the entirety of their discussion, instead too consumed by his solemn thought to think of speaking. Only now, with both pairs of watching eyes upon him, did he return to the present. There were few times he truly loathed his position of power, but occurrences like this were such times – the occasions those he ruled turned to him for answers, and he found himself with none. His jaw set with a look of grim self-doubt, moving with a slow pacing to turn away from the frantically searching eyes that targeted him. "If I knew a way, I would not have called you here." The god snapped, his anger flaring as it always did, when he felt himself unworthy of his responsibilities. Immediately, though, he sighed – his temper was a beast he was constantly battling, but he knew Thanatos and Hecate were not the correct sources to release such emotion. It was himself he should be angered with, what sort of a King was he? "My apologies. What I mean to say is, that such a problem is unheard of.

"My kingdom, this Underworld, has stood for eons without movement. There has been no sudden change, no issue to cause such a rift within my realm. But, even now, I feel it. This… strange decay, which is grasping its fingers throughout my walls, my _home_. How ironic, that the downfall of the realm of the dead may be death itself." He released a bitter, hollow laugh, the dark smirk sticking to his lips even as he turned to face the horror filled face of Thanatos.

"You- You mean _you_ can't fix this?"

"You do not understand. This realm is a part of me, another limb. The Underworld has been dying for some time. It has always been doing so – an endless cycle of decay. Death is the only home for the dead, after all. But, this… this is a new stage. For centuries, the structure of this world below has stood strong, had allowed itself to become at one with its subjects. But the Elysian Fields have always been different. It is one of the few places which has ever allowed plants to grow, flowers to bloom. The decay of these plains means something darker is at work here. That the Underworld is changing – and not for the better."

Hades was painfully aware of the implications to the problem of which he spoke. He cursed himself for not noticing, for not spotting such an issue until now. How could he be so foolish? But, his realm was changing, and there was no point dwelling on his ignorance for now. This was a fault he would punish himself for later. For now… he had other worries. His mind briefly cast thought to Tartarus, to the monsters and brutes which were held captive there. To the Titans – the old gods and goddesses who had been trapped within that horrific prison for their crimes. The bars which had always held against them so strongly, were feeling their first ever moment of weakness. The thought of Cronus, his father, released from the flaming pits of his punishment, caused Hades more terror than he would care to admit – even if he knew Hecate caught the flicker of fear within his guarded eyes.

"I may be ruler here, but there is only one way to amend this problem." The King gave a blank look toward his advisors, hiding the true dread that had settled in his icy heart. "Not even a god of my power can bring life to these fruitless soils. Life has finally, truly, left this kingdom as it always wished to. The few breaths of being have finally given up on us. There is no god, beast, nor mortal alive which can restore what we have lost. A solution is not what we must think of… defences are our only cause of action, now."

He had not expected the expression of amusement which appeared in the black eyes of Hecate, nor the melodious laughter that escaped from her so effortlessly. She was mocking him at a time such as this? The anger threatened to reappear once more, but he was cut off by a gentle hand being placed at his tensed shoulders, a chuckle which once again took him by surprise. "Oh, Aidoneous. You have always been so _cynical_." Her voice was a melody, enticing as he had always known it. All heads in a room had always turned to her, the moment a silky word exited her lips – both for the wondrous spell of the sound of her tone, and for the wisdom all knew to be held within each sentence. Even Hades was not immune to that. "I would think a King should not give up on his kingdom so easily. You may be right, no _god_ can ever restore the life which has been lost to these plains. But, what of a goddess?" A wise smile appeared at her thin mouth, almost sarcastic. For once, he did not care to bring up the fact she should not so carelessly make humour of her ruler. He was too intrigued at this idea.

"You mean _you_ can restore life here?" Hope was a feeling he was not accustomed to. It felt foreign within him, slowly creeping its way through the dullness of his mind. Hope was an emotion for fools – but that did not stop him from feeling it, no matter how hard he resisted.

"Me? No. Not even my magic can accomplish such a deed. I can maintain the Elysian Fields as they are now for some time, delay the onslaught of destruction that is destined - for a while. Enough time for our true saviour to appear."

Thanatos was wide eyed now, managing to slip in the question that was on both his and Hades' mind like an excitable child. He had always adored Hecate's stories. "Who, my lady? _Who_ can fix this?"

"Now, of course, that would be telling." The goddess of magic smirked, finding amusement in Hades' irritable sigh. "But, you may rest assured the pieces shall put themselves in the right places. And, you, my King – you have a party to attend. I'm afraid if you wish to save your realm, you will once again have to brave the court of Olympus. That is where our last hope will be found."

For a moment, the idea of allowing the beasts of Tartarus to roam free seemed appealing. Just a _moment_.

 _A/N: Hello anyone who happens to stumble upon my story! Please let me know if you like what you've read so far! This story is going to be quite a shift from the greek myth as we know it, but I hope you can still enjoy it :)_


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"Kore!"

The young goddess heard the calls of her mother, reaching her from some distance, across the thriving fields she named her home. It had become a game to her, as she grew older, to revel in the few freedoms she was granted. Demeter, the virtuous goddess of the harvest – and her mother – rarely gifted her daughter with time out of her sight. Not that Kore minded so much, she loved the elder woman dearly, more than she had ever adored any plant or any bloom. But, she was not a girl any longer. Gone were the days, when she spent her nights cuddled at her mother's chest, or her days chasing the woman's heels. She was the beginning of a woman now, in everything but her duties. She had reached the height of the nymphs which kept her company long ago, and no one could deny the changes to her figure, no matter the baggy, shapeless linens she wore.

Her game was a simple one. On the few occasions her mother was forced to leave her daughter's sight, Kore would do all she could to prolong the separation. She was not so certain why – perhaps it was merely the thrill of hiding amongst the foliage, with dirt streaked cheeks and a mischievous grin. Or, maybe, it was something more. Living such a sheltered life had granted her little time to be, just alone. She liked the brief moments of clarity, where she could think to herself with little distractions. The undergrowth of her mother's forests became the resting place for such periods of thoughtfulness. And, in those times, Kore found herself wishing for something she knew her mother would not like. A _purpose_.

The girl did not wish to be separated from her small family, not really. All she desired for was for something of her own. From the second she could stand, she had helped her mother with her work. Bringing life to the fruitful lands of Earth was something she enjoyed – she adored watching from her secret hiding places, the tired but satisfied faces of mortals as they reaped the earnings of their hard work. The prosperity she could help Demeter bring to those who deserved it. She loved helping, she did; but it was a job that was not her own. She was merely a useful hand, an ease of the great burden Demeter would always carry. Kore found herself unsatisfied, despite how important she knew her work to be. It was a feeling she had never dared to share.

"Kore!"

The voice ran out again, more shrill this time. There was a note of panic in it that the playful goddess was not accustomed to, but she would not give up on her hiding so easily. Eagerly, she dug herself closer to the tree she had claimed as her refuge, the mud covered arms blending in with the bark. It was hard not to laugh, to allow herself some noise that would give her away too soon. But, she wouldn't: she was far too stubborn for that.

"Kore, reveal yourself at once! I come with important news. News from your _father_."

That was enough to cause her limbs to freeze. _Zeus_? Her mother never spoke of the King of the Gods, the man who had helped give her life, but had rarely actually seen her living it. Demeter was set on keeping her daughter as far away from that man as possible, and from the court of Olympus. There had been a time when Kore had yearned to go, had wished to venture to the great mountains above, where her distant, divine family roamed. Her requests were cut off with sharp words and a dismissive hand – it was the first time she had ever seen her mother so angry at her, and she had never dared to breach the subject again.

Slowly, the girl stepped outward from her hiding place, her movements dulled by the shock of what she had just heard. Was this just a trick to find her? Surely not, the subject of her father was ignored as much as possible, not something to be brought up so lightly in a petty game. With the shock waning, the girl found herself running; bare feet pounded over the grassy banks that lead to her home, tangled curls of hair flowing with the wind. She sprinted, each step bringing her closer, until over the hill she saw the tanned skin of her mother, the figure she bounded excitably towards.

"Mother? Is it true? Father has a message for us?" Demeter was not impressed with her daughter's joy, but for once she did not remark on it. Instead, she busied herself with removing a loose twig from the mess of her young girl's hair, a maternal smile reaching her lips at her daughter's earth smeared clothing. How naïve she was, she always thought, how trusting. Little did Demeter know of the true workings of her beloved's mind, and often she did not care to know; she preferred to think of the woman as just a child, her babe to still protect. For now, she allowed herself a moment of contentment with that thought. After tonight, that may all be over.

"The _King_ of the Gods has spoke to me, yes." The goddess of harvest spoke, purposefully using her brother's full title, in a hope to intimidate the girl. The next words she had to speak were not easy, but even Demeter could not refuse a demand from Zeus. She knew she had kept her girl as protected from the world of the deities for as long as she could, knew this life of safety could not last forever. She had known it, but denied it to herself. All gods and goddesses must eventually make their arrivals to Olympus, must introduce themselves to the world of the immortals they were born to. Fine clothing, and untrusting minds was not a world she wanted for Kore – she wanted the wildness of the woods, the hard work of the harvest. But, Zeus had finally grown impatient. He had given the order that his daughter, must make her sacred debut. The thought sickened her more than she thought it would.

"Kore, my darling. Tonight, we must make a journey." She swallowed, fearing the wide eyes of enthusiasm she was faced with. How could she lead her girl into that bed of snakes, willingly? "You must know, by now, that you are no longer a child. You have grown into a woman. Every day, your powers broaden, you flourish. The time has come for you to finally make your way to the realm above, for you to meet your family."

"You mean… I am to go to Mount Olympus?" Kore did not wish to get her hopes up too high, did not want to grant herself the dreams she had always refused to believe would ever come to pass. Had the moment, finally, come when she would be trusted to set her first step upon that golden court?

"Yes." The word was bitter, Demeter looked away. She looked only to the sanctuary she had constructed for her child, only to the gentle flowers Kore had set to bloom. She would protect her, she always would – there was nothing the world of the gods could throw at her that she would not form a shield for. "There is to be a banquet in your honour, a welcoming for you. A celebration for the woman you are becoming. All the gods shall attend, I should imagine, to see you for the first time." Fists clenched, anger rose. What gave them the right, to look upon her with their greedy eyes? Her trust of her siblings in Olympus had many times been broken, had many times been misplaced. How dare they force her child to their table? "Listen to me, Kore.

"We will remain in that kingdom no longer than we have to. You may dine at your father's side, but you may not worry – it shall be the last time you are ever forced to lay your eyes upon that man again. You shall not leave my sight, not for a second, do you understand? Those people… That place… It is a pit of vipers, my dear. You see the good in all, but there is no kindness to be found there." Demeter grasped at her daughter's hand, enveloping her with her warm touch. For the first time, Kore was quick to pull away.

"You cannot know that for certain, mother. Everyone can't be so bad as you claim." The girl tried to hide her frustrations, her own rage which developed whenever her mother spoke this way. The way she always _doubted_ her, the strength she knew was within. But it was the closest she would allow herself to a disagreement. An argument would only cause Demeter's protective gaze to become all the more diligent – and the girl was much too smart to allow that. Already, she was thinking of the endless corridors she would have to explore, the scenery of Olympus she wished to view. If she angered her mother, she would never have a chance to sneak out of her sight. For now, she would remain obedient, no matter if she loathed it. It was a small price to pay for a whole night of exploration.

"You have yet to truly understand the things of which I speak. I wish I could guard you from them forever. But… One night, I can protect you for that long." The usual, maternal smile replaced the brief moment of anger. It was an ugly emotion, something she did not enjoy revealing to her daughter. "Now, come. It will not be long before night falls. We best get you ready, and that hair is not going to comb itself, is it?"

Kore moved along compliantly, with the warm hand her mother rested on her shoulders. Outside, she was the picture of innocence. But, inside there was something else at work – the whirrings of a mind that was striking up a plan, to give herself a night of freedom like one she had never known.

It had not taken Hades long to figure out who Hecate intended to fulfil her plan. At first, he had been about to bound up to Olympus without a second thought, but he had been requested to wait – until _tonight_. A gathering of the gods and goddesses was taking place, a feast of welcome for the daughter of Zeus and Demeter. Immediately, Hades had felt his jaw clench; he was not fond of his younger sibling, nor of the children he seemed to bear with every step he took. But, for the sake of his kingdom, he would put up with whichever ill-mannered goddess he had to. Hecate was right, though; if there was any immortal that could give his realm any slither of hope, surely a child of the harvest could do so. The only challenge was in getting her to comply.

"How, exactly, do you intend for me to bring her here? I'm certain you are much better suited to this task." Hades had grumbled, as one of the souls that had been condemned to serve him placed the last piece of his dark armour into place. "You know I'm not so eloquent with persuasion. Besides, all those upon Olympus despise me – they see in me a necessary evil, something they resist. How do you suppose I am to talk a young maiden into following me to this place?" The great ruler sighed, though he would not give up just yet. It would not be ideal for him to drag the goddess to his realm – such a task she had to perform required great effort, and he was certain could not be performed unwillingly. But, he was not above such a deed, he knew, if it truly came down to it. To save his kingdom, he would risk much more.

"Perhaps you have less to worry for than you think. The girl has lived a sheltered existence at your sister's side, spending her days in the fields of the mortals. I would not be surprised if she has not even heard your name before; she cannot fear that which she does not know. Have faith in yourself, my lord. A goddess who has spent so much time at her mother's side… maybe she desires a change of scenery." Hecate spoke with her usual, intellectual drawl from her position at the window sill, watching him with an amused smirk as the god ran a hand through his dark hair. It was unusual to see him like this – so lacking in his regality. Hecate was one of the few that saw behind that kingly mask of his, yet every time she did so she found herself surprised. Sometimes, he seemed like a lost child, with his shoulders weighted down with the heavy burden of the Underworld. Others, he was a blaze of rage, setting destruction in the wake of his anger. It was impossible to tell what his true nature was, or whether he had any true nature at all; he was a constantly changing being, even if he liked to protest against any change to his life at all. "It may help if you _smile_ , though."

The goddess chuckled to herself, and Hades waved her off with an unamused frown, giving himself one last glance in the mirror. He could not help his nerves. He may be a ruler, but he would never admit how greatly he despised leaving the comfort of his own realm. It had been years since he had braved the steps of Olympus, for anything more than the few meetings he could not avoid. He hated the gazes of his fellow immortals, how they would watch him with a mixture of disgust and distaste. As if he had chosen the world of the dead, as if he had become at one with them. He hated his brother, his arrogance, his mockery. How he flitted from woman to woman, man to man, without a care for the destruction he left behind. Zeus was a man who took action with passion; Hades was a follower of logic. Most of all, he hated the dramatics of Olympus: the weight that was paid to who could provide the finest wine, or who would be wearing the most expensive garments. He may be the god of wealth, but he gave little care for it; to him it was something nice to have, something pleasant to view. But wealth did not affect his opinion of a person, no more than the shade of their hair or skin would.

"I shall be off, then." The King muttered, his voice not bothering to hide his lack of enthusiasm as he exited his chambers, making his way towards the stables in which his great stallions were kept. His armour felt heavier than it ever had, his heart a weight within his chest. He hated these festivities, and knew he would gain all the more attention for his usual lack of attendance. Just one night of torture, just one. And, with that, he set his jaw with steely determination. He could do this, he _had_ to do this. For the sake of all he was promised to protect.

In the halls of Olympus, Kore was no longer Kore. She found herself feeling an odd sense of achievement, with each god or goddess that addressed her by her true name, the one gifted to her from her father – _Persephone_. She was not a child in these corridors, in the great courts she'd heard so much about; here she was a woman, a young goddess coming of age. She'd never felt so liberated, even if Demeter kept her promise of sticking at her side with watching eyes. Every now and then, she felt her mother's warm hand at the bend of her elbow, as a male god came to make his greeting to her. It was clear to see she did not trust them, nor the generous gifts they bestowed her with. The first to take her hand in greeting had been Hermes, who placed a brief kiss upon her tanned knuckles, a mischievous smile appearing as he met her gaze. Persephone had been unable to help the way she stared at the winged sandals at his feet, which had caused him to chuckle all the more. "My, Demeter, you would think your daughter had never seen a god fly before." Persephone decided not to admit that she had not, and instead bid her thanks for the gift of a great map of Earth (hand drawn by a mortal himself, she was assured) the messenger god had been proud to bestow her with.

In her greetings to the other immortals, the goddess of spring could not help but feel out of place. There stood Aphrodite, in a fine chiton of gold and jewels, the thick locks of her hair set upon her head in a tight bun, and bedecked with more gems than Persephone had ever laid eyes upon. In comparison, the younger girl felt quite plain; she had worn a long chiton of creamy linen, decorated only with the embroidery of flowers she and her mother had hand woven into the fabric. Her hair was loose and flowing, as always, though without a tangle for once. And, as fitted the goddess of springtime, was intertwined with many petals and flower buds. She had been proud of her appearance – yet, surrounded by more grandeur and expense than she had ever known, had soon felt deflated. She did not notice the eyes of both gods and goddesses alike that trailed her figure a little longer than needed, nor the flirtatious remarks of many, that were quickly cut off by a swift glare from Demeter.

Still, being within this place was enough to set her spirits at a new high. As she had entered her father's palace, she had turned her head in every direction, willing herself to take in every detail she could. Her curiosity was over flooded with choices, and already she was wondering just how many hours it would actually take to explore the entirety of this great place. In fact, for a second she was so distracted, she had not noticed the strange hush which had set about the previously bustling room. It was only once she felt her mother's grip tighten upon her arm that she turned her head, glancing towards the source of such a disturbance.

Yet, upon tilting her gaze, she saw nothing of remark. In the doorway, there stood a god. A tall god with a dark gaze, that was casting itself upon the crowd of sudden stares like an icy mask. His jaw was set in a stiff scowl upon his face, and despite the pause he had set about the room, he moved forward through the stilled huddle of the divine. Towards _her_. "What is he doing here?" She heard her mother's voice in her ear, though for the first time since their arrival in Olympus, it was not completely filled with distaste. It was more a tone of astonishment that filled her words, an unsettled lack of ease that Persephone did not understand. How was this man any different from any of the other immortals she had been presented to so far?

She had little time to wonder. It took mere seconds for him to near her, for him to stand with his eyes locked onto hers. For a moment there was silence – he seemed to be watching her, a look which was taking her in. It was something more than all the other deities had greeted her with, something more intense. Almost a calculated expression, as if sizing her up for something more than a welcoming. The girl instantly felt discomfort, could not help the subtle squirm she displayed beneath his dark eyes. Then, just like that, the silence was broken. Instead, it was an eruption of whispers which were threading throughout the great hall, the soft patter of gossip in the air. Persephone did not care to listen in; for now her attention was consumed with this strange god that was facing her, the only one thus far who had failed to make the first move in conversation. It was she who gave in, and spoke up, unable to stand the quiet between them any longer.

"Greetings, my lord. I thank you for your attendance, and hope this evening pleases you." Her eyes continue to search him, curiously, as she recited the words her mother had taught her to say. "I hope your journey was not too far. I'd hate for the festivities to have caused you inconvenience."

Then, there was a faint flicker of amusement in his steely expression, and an armour clad hand reached out to take her own. "My greetings to you, my lady. And, my welcome to this court. My name is Hades, Lord of the Dead, Ruler of the Underworld. But, please, do not let such titles intimidate you." There was a sudden burst of realisation in the young goddess's mind – well, that certainly accounted for the many stares and hushed voices. She may not know much about the Underworld, but she knew its ruler was rarely seen outside of his realm of the dead. He was also supposed to be an unsociable, cruel brute, but the man before her did not seem to match such a description. After he placed a brief kiss to her fingers, he allowed her palm to drop back down to her side, then his eyes slowly drew away from hers and to the hardened face of Demeter.

"Brother." Was all she said, though the tension within the word was clear, the hue of suspicion that lined her voice. "It is a treat to see you here, if a rare one. I wonder what has drawn you from your home to this place – was it not you who claimed to hate this realm just as much as I the last time we spoke? Though, it has been more years than I can remember, I do not recall you being the sort who changed his opinions so freely." Her eyes narrowed, hand drawing her daughter a little closer to her side. Hades noticed, of course he did, the protective claw upon the young woman's shoulder. However, more importantly, he saw the subtle frown that appeared and then fled Persephone's pink lips, as her mother's protection amplified. Perhaps she did not enjoy his sister's watching eyes as much as Demeter would like to think.

"Demeter. It is good to see you." He said in return, a thin, mildly amused smirk appearing. His siblings may not be the most amiable bunch, but he had to admire the strength he always saw in the goddess of the harvest. It was something he sometimes wished he could borrow. "I am merely here to see my niece make her debut. Is that so surprising?" Demeter's unbelieving raise of her eyebrow showed it clearly was, and so Hades released a sigh. There would be no weakening of his sister's strong will. Instead, he changed the subject, reaching within his cloak to draw out the gift he had kept safe within its folds. An asphodel flower, one of the few he had found that had been left untouched by the rotting decay of the Elysian Fields. Cautiously, he held it out to the goddess, an offering he hoped may at least win him some favour, even if his lacking of charisma did not.

"An asphodel bloom for you, my lady. The flower may not be so beautiful as the precious petals you wear within your hair, but it is one of the few sources of life that can be maintained in the depths of my realm. It is a strong plant – a quality I'm certain my sister will have bestowed to you, too. I hope it pleases you." Persephone took the plant with a look of childlike wonder. She had seen almost every piece of nature the earth had to offer, had observed every wonder her mother could bring to life. But this… this was new. The first new flower she had seen since her youth.

"It is splendid, my lord. I shall treasure it, I promise." She said, holding the stalk to her chest and showing a bright smile toward the fearsome king. Just then, he did not seem so scary to her. He had opened his mouth to speak again, when a loud trumpeting erupted, and all heads turned toward the grand entrance doors of Zeus' banquet halls. Hades tried to hide his disdain as the wooden planks opened themselves, and the bright glow of his brothers' powerful form came to sight.

"Persephone, my daughter. You are finally home."


End file.
